My Date From Hell (The Blooming Goddess Trilogy, #2)

Cupid's Golden Arrow (Part 2)

I threw her a "get real" look. "There are billions of them, Bethany. Sorry to burst your bubble but there's a world bigger than Hope Park." I gestured at the banner. "Or the readership of She."

Bethany tossed her hair. "That's where Jack Wing, Head of Wing Media comes in. Even you must have heard of him."

My palms glowed. Had I been able, I would have walloped her into a wall at her contempt for me. Instead, I dialed it back and poked her hard in the chest.

Bethany was one of the few humans who knew all about me, so periodic reminders of the bodily harm I could do never hurt. "Don't push me."

You'd have to be living under a rock not to know Jack Wing. His reality TV shows like Snake Eyes (wannabe gamblers seeking fame and fortune) and Wrong Note (wannabe musicians seeking same) were watched globally. But the show that hit stratosphere proportions for both popularity and trash-factor was Endgame, where contestants fought chess "battles" as weird pageantry met Japanese game show-style challenges in a race across a giant chessboard.

Jack Wing was the ultimate puppet master of reality TV. But I still didn't see the connection. "What's the deal?"

Bethany was more than happy to enlighten me. She leaned in, making sure I followed every word. "He adores me. See, it turns out that my charms are amplified on video. I had Jack twisted around my little finger in a second. I requested fame and he happily complied. I'm multi-media now, bitch."

Bethany gave a satisfied smirk at my dawning understanding.

Jack's global reach plus Bethany's magicked charms equaled one very worrisome situation.

"Saturday," she continued, starting up the stairwell, me the one now trotting at her heels, "I'll be crowned Winter Formal Queen. Jack's going to feature the video as the final segment on his show Global Voyeur. Cross-posted across all platforms as a final ramp up to Doggy Style. To really cement the idea of me being media royalty." She paused, a thoughtful look on her face. "I have always wanted to land a prince."

I stepped in close. "Over my dead body."

She smiled. As if that could be arranged. "Soon after the dance," she continued, "my show goes on the air. The masses will worship me. I'm going to be the world's most famous celebrity." She continued up the steps.

"For bending over?" I asked motioning to the image of Bethany in her downward dog on some passing kid's T-shirt. "How appropriate."

The situation was worse than I thought if this media mogul thought a show called Doggy Style was appropriate for a teen host.

"I'm going to promote wisdom, fashion, and the importance of social hierarchies in schools," she said.

"You mean bullying."

"Potato, potahto." Bethany gave me a sweet smile that, with her dark red hair and big blue eyes should have seemed like innocence personified.

Instead I just saw it for the evil it was, masked by a magically enhanced pretty face.

Her smile widened. "Soon there will be no place for people like you. Oh, and you specifically. I'll have it all. And you? What have you got? Vines. That you can't even show anyone because they'd CIA your ass into Area 51 and study you like the freak show you are." She tapped her chin thoughtfully with her index finger. "Or maybe I'll turn you in myself if you don't back off Kai. Why have a prince when I can have a god?"

Technically, he was both. And she was getting neither. Whatever relationship she may or may not have had with him? That was over. Competing with Persephone was one thing, but damned if I'd let Bethany think she got to be part of the mix any longer.

I flicked a finger against Bethany's sleeve under which I knew was the tattoo given to her by Delphyne the dragon. A ring of laurel leaves circling her arm, with a small dragon hidden in them, the tattoo was the source of her cranked up popularity and beauty.

I didn't say a word. Just smiled to remind her that I could blast her arm off any time I wanted. Well, as soon as I had fully recharged. Not that she needed to know that.

I made a quiet zapping noise. For added emphasis.

Bethany removed my hand from her arm and tsked me. "I've got protectors now." And with that, she turned and flounced off.

"What the hell kind of bizarro world did I come back to?" I demanded as I threw open the door to the raspberry-colored bedroom I shared with Hannah.

How incredible to be back amidst Hannah's meticulously organized science equipment, books, and field hockey gear, and my random clutter of mementos like postcards from Hannah and wind-up toys from Theo. Not to mention my comfy, excellently tricked out blue bedding.

I cocked an expectant eyebrow at Theo and Hannah. They stared back at me, then started talking at once, trying to explain.

The gist of it, as I finally understood, was that Bethany really had caught the attention of this media mogul. Snowed like everyone else, he threw a lightning-fast campaign behind her. First she'd had the magazine cover. Next, Jack had hired social media experts to up Bethany's online presence with videos of her doing nothing more beyond hanging out and spouting Bethanyisms.

So verrah glad I'd missed that.

And after she was crowned Winter Formal Queen, she would be flown off to begin filming her her yoga/talk show where she'd do a few moves with celebs and then gab.

Goddess help us all. Bethany was going to achieve the dream of far too many. To be famous for nothing. And she was pursuing it with a vengeance.

"She has to be stopped," I said, and flopped onto the downy comforter on my bed. It was the most heavenly feeling ever. "No way does she get to spread her vapid and dangerous ideas to the willing masses. I mean, what's the point of saving humanity if this is what I'm saving it for? Uh-uh. Her infamy ends now."